Language of Her Heart
by thenostalgicdreamer
Summary: Trish recalls the journey to finding the man who speaks the language of her heart.


**Author's note: As much as I love Trish, I find her harder to write than Dez because I don't relate with her as well. However, I felt that this story about the burdens of Trish's heart was one that should be told. Hope you enjoy it!**

"It's bedtime, sweetie," Trish said turning to her little daughter Esmeralda who was sitting at the kitchen table coloring in her favorite coloring book.

"No, Mommy, daddy's coming," Esmeralda responded quickly. Trish smiled—her daughter could be such a spitfire, but it was hard to be impatient knowing that she herself was equally stubborn.

Trish walked over to the table. "He's not coming for a long time. It's bedtime now, " she replied a little more emphatically, hoping little Essie would change her mind.  
>"Can't I please stay up?" Esmeralda begged. Trish felt like saying no. It was seven-thirty already, and Esmeralda would be cranky tomorrow if she didn't get enough sleep. Esmeralda turned and faced Trish. The look on the little girl's face stopped Trish in her tracks. Trish had always thought that Esmeralda had her dad's eyes, but right now she was making the same face her dad did when he really wanted something. "Please, Mom," said Esmeralda said again. Trish's heart melted as she thought about how much they were both missing him after he had been gone all week on a business trip. It wouldn't hurt to rock her to sleep this time.<p>

"Well, get ready for bed, and then I'll read you a story and we can sit up for a while." Trish told the little girl whose eyes were shining. Esmeralda scrambled off to change into her favorite princess Jasmine nightgown.

Soon, Esmeralda was ready for bed, and the two settled in the rocking chair to enjoy Essie's favorite story about Princesses Anna and Elsa. Once the story was over, Trish sat quietly rocking the sleepy Esmeralda. Soon, Esmeralda had stopped wiggling—she was asleep. Trish had been planning to carry Esmeralda to bed once she fell asleep, but now she didn't really feel like getting up to do it. It had been a long week between work and caring for little Esmeralda by herself. Besides, she was always exhausted when she was pregnant. She reached out her hand to steady her sleeping daughter who was sliding off of her lap. It wouldn't be long until Esmeralda wouldn't fit on her lap at all. Trish wanted to savor this special moment with her daughter. She continued rocking and soon found herself drifting off to dreamland.

In her mind's eye, she could see a world that no longer existed where she was a little girl like Esmeralda. She could see the red tile floor and bright orange walls. She felt excited and realized that she like Esmeralda was waiting for her daddy to come home after a particularly long week of work. Juan De La Rosa's trim carpentry business had always kept him busy and that week a job at a mansion outside of Miami had kept away from home from dawn until after little Trish's bedtime. She had missed him so much. It had been a week since she had seen his smile, felt his gentle kiss, and smelled his strong yet sweet cologne. Most of all, she had missed his warm greeting—"_hola, mija_". Suddenly, she heard the high pitched squeak of the door and the loud thud of his workbooks on the tile. Daddy was home! She saw her mother come running and give him a big kiss. Then, she felt herself carried up into her arms. She felt so secure and safe. For the first time, she wondered where she'd find a man like her daddy—a man who'd treat her like her _papi_ treated her _mami_. That night after her bath, she had asked her mom the question that had been burning on her mind. "Mom, how will I find someone to marry?" The answer had been so simple, "_mija_, someday someone will come into your life who speaks the language of your heart." The words and confident tone in which they had been spoken had settled the matter for Trish. Someday, she would find someone.

From that day on, Trish had begun wondering when she'd met that special guy. She was sure it would be in middle school, but none of her crushes thought that she was anything special. On the outside, she acted invincible and unperturbed, but in the quiet moments she struggled with doubts that there was something wrong with her. No one would like someone like her; she was too different. She was always the short one, but she was never skinny enough to be seen as cute and petite. She'd never be the "right size". Her complexion, instead of being milk pale like those of her friends, was the rich color of creamy coffee. And she spoke Spanish, especially when she was sad or angry or excited. She was just too Cuban—no guy would want that. To add to her troubles, she wasn't the happy, sweet compliant little girl who made guys feel needed. She was independent, blunt, passionate, intense, and at times defiant. The days of doubt were dark and dreary, and it was only her mom and Ally's encouragement that kept her from losing the hope that someday she would find someone who spoke the language of her heart.

She was positively thrilled when Trent came along. He was impressive—dancing talent aside. And then, she'd been amazed to discover that he might actually like her back. Her doubts were banished when he expressed that he liked her back. It was a crushing blow to her self-confidence when she discovered that he had just been playing with her the whole time. Perhaps there'd never be anyone. She entered a time of sadness so deep that only her best friend knew about it. But always in her darkest moments, her mom's words came back to her. Someday, mija, you'll find someone who speaks that language of your heart.

Then had come the Team Austin tour where she had met Jace. They met so many people on tour, but Trish had known that Jace was different from the moment she set eyes on him. Unlike the many who ignored everyone except Austin and sometimes Ally, Jace had known who Trish was and had gone out of his way to strike up a conversation with her. He had expressed interest in her work and told her how much Austin owed to her—something that she was very aware of but very seldom heard. He ended up staying until Team Austin went back to the tour bus. Trish felt something special had happened that night and couldn't bear the thought that she'd never see him again.

But the next day, she had a text from him telling how happy he'd been to meet her. Over the next weeks, Trish took every advantage of every opportunity to text him, and they began video calling frequently as the tour ended. A few months later, Jace bought tickets to visit her in Miami. The visit was so much fun. To Trish's surprise, Jace felt completely at home with her crazy Cuban-American family. He was comfortable enough in Spanish that their conversations drifted harmoniously between the two languages. They are argued about whether his grandmother's Mexican tamales were better than her grandmother's Cuban ones, and his stories about his trip to Mexico to visit his great-aunts and uncles spurred her dad to talk about the Havana he missed so much. Best of all, Jace was always kind and treated her with respect and dignity. Their relationship quickly moved to that of girlfriend and boyfriend, and Trish couldn't have been happier. He was the man of her dreams. As their high school years faded into college, everything seemed to fall into place. Trish felt sure that he was the one her mom had told her she would find someday—the man who'd speak the language of her heart.

They'd always gotten together over the holidays, and the New Years of her sophomore year of college found Trish in Albuquerque with Jace and his family. The New Year's Eve lunch was the same as all the other years, and the family was the same sophisticated Philips, but Trish just didn't feel the same. As she got dressed for their New Year's eve party, she got thinking about how in a few years from now she'd be sitting at the table with her husband Jace and their three little children Ruby, Ryan, and Alex. She'd really belong with the Philips family. It was not a new thought to her, but she felt differently about it now. She suddenly realized that she actually could not picture that happening. It was a strange thought that stopped her dead in her tracks. Instantly, all the doubts that she'd had throughout their relationship were staring her in the face. Jace was a great guy and all, but he wasn't the one who spoke the language of her heart. Normally, Trish loved Albuquerque, but that New Year's eve she couldn't help but wish she were anywhere but there.

As she sat around that evening at the party, she heard the happy chatter of the family, but she couldn't bring herself to participate. She felt miserable—knowing she must tell Jace how her feelings had changed but wishing with all her heart that she wouldn't have to. Jace noticed that something was wrong and suggested they go outside for some fresh air. Trish didn't want to go, but not going would be worse. As they walked under the bright starry New Mexico sky, Jace gently grabbed her hand and asked her what was wrong. Trish quietly found the words to tell him that despite the fact that she loved him so much she just couldn't see herself with him anymore. To her surprise, he told her that he had felt them drifting apart, and that as special as she was he could see the future holding different things for him. "_So let's just be friends?_" Trish had said. "_Yes_," Jace had replied. "_You'll always be my friend._"

Back at school in California, Trish felt so disillusioned beginning a new year without Jace. She had really thought that he spoke the language of her heart but that was simply because they had understood each other and their backgrounds had been similar. Trish had re-created the man of her dreams to be Jace. But he wasn't. The matter of someone speaking the language of her heart wasn't a matter of a checklist but rather something deep. When it fit, she would feel it, just like Austin and Ally had.

Trish felt so lonely, broken, and disillusioned that year. It was so disorienting to be single after four years with Jace. She hardly knew who she was anymore or what she thought about life. So many of her thoughts about herself had been mixed together with his opinions of her or her thoughts about him. She couldn't look at her wardrobe without having a thought of what she had done with him while wearing a particular outfit or how that particular shirt had been his favorite. It was so difficult, so sad. But at the same time, she felt relived to not have to convince herself that Jace was the man of her dreams when she knew that he wasn't. Burying those doubts had taken so much energy. With Jace out of the picture, she was aware of how much she missed Miami and Team Austin. She felt nostalgic for the time she'd been happy without a boyfriend. If only they could be together again.

In a strange twist of fate, she'd received a text from Dez the next week asking her if she would take part in his latest film project. She would have said no just months before, but she felt like remembering the past and being close to the friends she had drifted away from since high school. She told him yes. Austin and Ally might be far away, but she might as well restore the one relationship she could.

Trish was amazed when she actually had a blast working with Dez on his project. The time apart had cleared her mind of all of her negative thoughts of him. She was shocked that she had ever seen him as stupid and too crazy. She could see now that what she had equated with stupidity was actually a brain that worked differently than everyone else's. He might be forgetful or mess-up just doing basic math, but when it came to art, he was perfectly at home. His work was so original and thought-provoking—he was an artistic genius. She found herself laughing and laughing at his antics which stemmed from an artist mindset that saw the world as full of open doors and a sense of dignity that was left intact in situations where those of less mettle would have been mortified.

The rest of the project had gone so well that Trish was actually excited rather than bored at the thought of spending more time together. They had found themselves going out for Zaliens movies, taking trips to the beach, and going on picnics. Trish wondered why she had ever thought that Dez was weird. He wasn't weird—he was fun. Hanging out with him was never boring because she could never know what crazy idea he'd dream up next. She hadn't known it and wouldn't have wanted it at the start, but they were laying the groundwork for a serious relationship that progressed so slowly, so naturally that Trish was ready when he asked her to be his girlfriend the Christmas of their Junior year. Trish never would have imagined herself as Dez's girlfriend, but if this is what life with Dez would be like she didn't want to ever leave his side.

On a bright day just a week after their graduation, Dez had taken her to his favorite park and had asked her to marry him. In high school, he would have been the last person who she would have expected to marry—this crazy ginger artist who mixed up quesadillas and quinceañeras. As he kneeled there waiting, his expression changed to one of concern. Trish had seen that look before. Dez had faced unsurmountable obstacles to achieving his dreams. He had been terribly misunderstood growing up and had faced continuous bullying. Instead of becoming bitter or defeated, he had gained strength that made him something she could lean on when she faced her own challenges. They both believed in their dreams and let nothing stop them from achieving them. Together, they would be unstoppable. Trish smiled just thinking about the greatness they would achieve together. Dez's face lit up just seeing her smile, and Trish could see another language they both spoke—one of lightheartedness and laughter. Dez knew not only how to work hard but also how to play hard. Suddenly, Trish could see it-Dez was the man who spoke the language of her heart. She said yes with gusto, and threw her arms around his neck. Nothing could have made her happier than knowing that she would be stuck with her Dezzy for the rest of her life.

Lights flashed across the windows of the living room waking Trish up from her sleepy state. Dez was home! Trish glanced down at the beautiful gold rings she always wore on her left hand. It had been five years since Dez given them to her—five happy years. She glanced up at the canvas wall poster her parents had given her as a wedding present. Its statement was so true—my favorite thing about my home is the people I share it with. She felt as excited little child on Christmas Eve as she got up and set Esmeralda gently on the couch. She ran to the door, to her Dezzy, the man who spoke the language of her heart. Trish knew that with him she would always be wanted, understood, and loved.

**Note:** _Mami_ and _papi_ are the Spanish equivalents of mommy and daddy.  
><em>Mija<em> (lit. _mi hija_) is a Spanish term that literally means "my daughter". It's a term of endearment that parents often use with their daughters. With code-switching (switching between languages), some people may use this term even when they are speaking English.


End file.
